


History of the Wives

by stormthecitadel



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Abduction, Backstory, Captivity, Childbirth, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Miscarriage, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rape Aftermath, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, no sex between the wives though, some graphic scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5726674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormthecitadel/pseuds/stormthecitadel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was compelled to write this fic because I'm super interested in the backstory of Joe's wives, and the relationships they formed while in the vault. I'm starting with the first of his wives (original characters) and then progressing to the wives we know and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of the prologue is a retelling of Immortan Joe's backstory in my own words, just to set the scene and help people who haven't read/don't want to read the comics. This will be the only chapter from his perspective, don't worry. At this point I'm thinking I'll do a few moderate sized chapters on each wife/group of wives before I move on to the next? Unsure but we'll see where it goes. Creative and constructive criticism is welcome, I'd like to know what you think! (Please let me know if you think you spot any errors in facts that clearly aren't just my personal ideas)

Colonel Joe Moore had been under no illusion that the end of days would arrive. He had served long enough to know when a battle was lost, and that the Earth, whom mankind had poisoned and devastated with wars for the last of Her blood and breath, would soon give one last shuddering exhale, and perish. They had killed the world, and with it, every last shred of civility and order. Mere weeks before the power was switched off and never turned on again, Joe began preparations. Rallying around him his brothers in arms, those who’d served under him loyally, who knew their way around weapons and had no qualms about ending lives with them, men of varying ranks, skills and assets to add to his band of warriors. When society finally broke and all laws, morals and ethics became null and void, Joe was ready.

Taking with him his wife and their sickly young son, they rode along the coast, enlisting the strong and the valuable, killing the weak and those who denied his generous invitation, taking their resources, their women and more importantly, their vehicles. By destroying or absorbing other road gangs, it wasn’t long before Joe had an impressive and intimidating convoy of tankers, off-roaders, freighters, bikes and machines of war along with an army of devoted followers. They were feared far and wide; none opposed them and were left intact.

A routine run-down of a group of civilians by Joe’s scouts proved most fortuitous, when a very fat, though admittedly clever man begged for his life and offered up some tantalizing information. An aquifer existed in the outback, an inexhaustible source of water pumped from an underground lake, protected in a fortress of rock. A group of three buttes, jutting out of the desert landscape. It was the perfect place to establish his new world order, one where he would continue to enjoy an elevated position of authority, as the supreme. At once they set off for this place, bringing the fat one with them, with the intent to purge the current occupants and begin to build his citadel.

What happened next became legend. His gang at first tried to appear amenable to the men inhabiting the aquifer by attempting to make trade. But the enemy were seasoned killers themselves and intended to prove this a thousand times over to defend their oasis. Any men of Joe’s group who attempted to scale the rock walls of the impenetrable tower were shot down, and any other means to enter it seemed impossible. However, Joe was fixated on claiming ownership of this divine source of wealth. With his right hand men, Major Kalashnikov, a ruthless weapons specialist, and Deepdog, a cunning strategist, he devised a plan to silently ascend the wall in the dark of night with his most reliable fighters, and use the expendable members of his convoy to distract their opponents in the daylight and be shot down. A surprise ambush from the adjacent tower began the bloody three day battle, and the rest of his people waited anxiously below.

When all had fallen silent by the second day, with no sighting of their men but the slaughtered ones strung up over the edge by the enemy, no one could be sure what was unfolding in the core of the tower. Hope lost and wearied by defeat, the remainder of the convoy made to move on when Joe and Kalashnikov emerged victorious, guns blazing in triumph and the leader of the opposition’s head mounted on a pike. It was unlike anything his men had ever seen, he must truly be immortal, come back from the dead to be their salvation. The Immortan Joe.

 

* * *

 

 

Some fifteen-hundred days since the takeover of the citadel, Immortan Joe stood at the same opening of the tunnel from which he’d appeared that fateful day. It was now a balcony, carved into the rock, serving as the podium where he addressed his people and blessed them with aqua-cola. Hewn into the walls of the natural tower was his logo, a colossal flaming skull, and his balcony sat in the mouth. This was both literally and figuratively the mouth of the citadel.

It was with no small deal of pride that Joe surveyed his domain. He had built a new world from the ashes of Before. The abandoned oil refinery and lead mine his crew had discovered even before the citadel belonged to him, were now restored and functioning, keeping the tanks of his fleet full, and well protected with arms. He had ordered a hydroponic system built to grow food atop the buttes, a steady asset for trading and feeding his army of war boys. Word had spread far and wide about the refuge, food and water that could be found at the Citadel if you were strong or useful. They flocked there in the thousands, in hopes that the next time The Immortan descended on that heavy-duty contraption, he may choose them.

At first Joe chose people whose professions could be of help in building and maintaining his empire. People who in the Before had been construction workers, plumbers, electricians, scientists, mechanics, cooks, gardeners and the like. Even in the beginning when Joe’s following had still been a road gang he had collected people with valuable skills and knowledge such as these, much to the bemusement of his crew. This was why he reigned supreme, Joe reminded himself, he was worthy because he had foreseen a future where these assets would be needed, and he, with his people’s best interests at heart had sought them out. Now the only people Joe would accept were men strong enough to fight or work, boys healthy enough to be raised for battle, or lactating women to add to his stock of milkers.

Joe was troubled. To his people, he was the Immortan. To himself, he was a man who had inevitable death in his future just as surely as anyone else. He had not been exempt from the poisoned air of Before. He had taken to wearing a gas mask long before The Fall to stop pollutants from choking him. But they were well engrained in his lungs nonetheless. His breathing was becoming increasingly laboured; he coughed and choked in the night. Lesions and lumps bubbled to the surface of his skin, causing him considerable pain and discomfort. His joints already gave him trouble and it took considerable effort to walk tall like a god. When he was gone, the Citadel and his newly built world would crumble without another strong hand to lift it up. He needed an heir. Fleetingly he considered choosing a fit young apprentice to educate in the ways of a leader, but no, this heir must have divine right by blood. His wife had been killed by a stray bullet on the journey to the Citadel, in a shootout with some scavenging Buzzards. Joe slaughtered them all in a rage; perhaps the last of his mercy had been stripped from him that day. Joe didn’t think he had the capacity to love anymore. But then again, he told himself, love and marriage were two separate things. And to have an heir, Joe would need a wife.

Wheezing slightly, with prickling pain in the skin of his back, Joe made his way to visit the person he trusted perhaps more than anyone in his new world, his doctor. Trying not to favour his bad knee too obviously, he strode along the hallways with purpose; every soldier he came across saluted him with a bowed head and the sign of the V-8. He removed his gas mask as he entered his quarters, where Dr. Graves was tending to Joe’s son, Corpus. The boy had been born exactly 550 days before The Fall, and like many children in his generation, had been formed from imperfect cells and mutated genes. When Joe first laid eyes on him, a tiny pink thing with short limbs twisted and curled against his torso, encased in a plastic box amid a jumble of wires and tubes, he thought his son couldn’t possibly live and maybe he ought not to.

“It’d be cruel to prolong his suffering. What quality of life would he have, Prima?” he’d said gently to his wife. “You heard them say he wouldn’t life a full lifetime”.

“Almost all children are destined to live half-lives nowadays, and you also heard them say there’s nothing wrong with his brain, just his bones. He’ll be able to lots of things”. She’d looked at him imploringly, her piercing gaze overflowing with tears.

Joe couldn’t argue with that. Their little boy had been among the last people to receive surgery in a real hospital before the power had been turned off for good, leaving a long puckered scar on his chest as a reminder of his fortune. Babies born twisted like that in the Wasteland almost never survived infancy. Prima had been right about Corpus, the boy was sharp and his hunger for knowledge was never completely satisfied, however many wordburgers he had his carer read to him. Even as Joe stepped through the doorway of his sparsely furnished parlor, Corpus held up a little wooden logic puzzle he’d just solved from his make-shift wheelchair constructed from bric-a-brac.

“Look, Pa”, he called out proudly to his father, breathing in an odd rhythm, with the help of an oxygen tank feeding him clean air through a nasal cannula while the Doctor listened through his stethoscope.

“Good lad”, Joe praised gruffly, striding over to a wooden chest against the far wall to retrieve another challenge for his son.

“Now try this one”, he rummaged in the chest and then held up a puzzle constructed from many different metal rings.

Corpus took it eagerly and began to inspect it, while Dr. Graves, or as he was more colloquially known, ‘The Grim’, removed his instrument from his ears and hauled himself up from his crouching position. He was a tall man, like Joe, with a scrubby black beard and a pinched face. He wore a pair of spectacles with one cracked lens and looked down his nose through them. He motioned to his son, a boy of about 4000 days who had an oddly shaped head and protruding bottom lip and had been observing from a rickety chair.

“Now I want you to take Corpus’ temperature like I showed you and add it to my notes from today, while I speak with Joe”, he instructed. The boy nodded and rummaged through the medical bag beside him.

Joe lead Grim into his ‘study’ a small room with charts and maps on the walls, a low table and two battered cane chairs. Sinking down into one of them he asked his confidante, “How is he?” while allowing himself a small groan as his joints protested.

“Well enough,” Grim answered carefully, “Boy’ll live for a while yet, assuming no complications arise. But you know he’s no full-life, Joe.”

Joe nodded slowly, he knew that indeed. “See your lad’s taking to his future profession like a natural”, he indicated back towards the parlour with a jerk of his head.

Grim shrugged one shoulder but allowed himself a small, proud smile. “He could work harder, but he’s got the brains for it that’s for sure.”

Joe sat silently for a moment, and then leaned forward in his seat, his fingers linked and elbows resting on his knees. “I want to secure my legacy also. I need a healthy son. Full-life. Corpus is a bright boy, but he’s not fit to take over when I’m gone, if he’s even alive himself.”

Grim mulled over this for a few moments, seemingly reading Joe’s mind and making calculations in his head. “You’ll need yourself a healthy female. Preferably young, and with no lumps or bumps. She’ll need to live in climate-controlled environment while she carries the child. I have experience in obstetrics, this can be done.” He confirmed, now looking Joe in the eye and nodding his head.

Joe exhaled the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I’ll have a place built, clean air and water, the works”. Anticipation built up in his chest, along with a bout of hacking coughs. Grim waited for him regain control of himself before speaking.

“I’ve come up with something that should help your breathing, an apparatus similar to Corpus’ tank, but much more befitting the Immortan.” He rose to retrieve it from the parlor, and Joe waited curiously. Grim returned with what looked like a pilot’s oxygen mask, decorated with horse teeth to create an unnerving grin. Attached to the mask was plastic conduit piping leading to a bag that reminded Joe of bellows, with leather straps and buckles.

“I drew the design, some black-thumbs and sparkies put it together. Let me show you.” Grim raised the contraption and moved towards Joe, who allowed the mask to be placed over his mouth and the strap buckled around the back of his head. The bag rested on his upper back and was secured with more straps over his shoulders and under his arms, meeting in the middle of his chest and buckled tight. Grim flipped a switch at the bottom of the bag and a low whirring told Joe a mechanism was functioning. He inhaled slowly and deeply, tasting clean air like a soothing balm in his lungs.

“That’s good,” he breathed with relief, then widened his eyes at Grim when he heard his voice through the mouth piece. It was gravelly and menacing. Grim looked extremely satisfied with his work.

“Now there’s a sight to behold”, he grinned as wide as Joe’s mask and nudged him toward the small shaving mirror mounted on the wall behind him.

Joe turned and admired himself, "Fuku-shima". He looked powerful, he looked threatening, he looked like a leader his people could fear and respect.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the first of Joe's wives in this chapter, I'm planning on a few chapters for her particular story before moving onto other wives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also if anyone wants to cry, read "Charge of the Light Brigade" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson and think of the War Boys.

Blessed woke with a start and did not immediately recall where she was. It was much darker than she was used to, a thorn of panic dug into her chest for a breathless few seconds until she felt a familiar pat-pat-squeeze on her shoulder.

“You’re alright Lovie, I’ve gotcha,” said the soothing voice.

“Auntie,” Blessed breathed a sigh of relief. “I’d forgotten we’d left home.” She heard Auntie shuffle around in the dark and the rustle-clatter of her rummaging in her bag. She made out the shape of the water canister in Auntie’s hand, moving slowly towards her face.

“Have yourself a decent drink, Darl’. It’s right hot out there today.”  
Blessed took it gratefully, but only allowed herself two small sips from their precious water, the canister already felt unsettlingly light. She offered the canister back to Auntie and indicated for her to drink too.

“None for me, Bless,” she shook her head with a small smile, “I had some before you woke.” Blessed knew this was a lie, but allowed her to tuck the canister back into the bag. They both crawled carefully out of the small cave where they’d found refuge from the chill of the desert night, temporarily blinded by the brightness of the day and stunned by the heat. Eyes streaming, they stretched and let themselves adjust to the environment before they began their day’s walk. It had been three days since they left the small settlement on the outskirts of Gas Town, the place they called home. An Imperator and a handful of crew had come and shouted to the masses, that any young females, be they healthy and able-bodied, were to present themselves to the Immortan Joe at the Citadel within ten days. Rumour spread through the camp like a virus, that the Immortan was searching for a wife, and Auntie had immediately collected what little possessions they had into a thin and patched canvas bag.

“This is your chance, Blessed,” she’d urged, “You’d want for nothing if the Immortan took you on”. Blessed had cried and insisted that she did not want to go, that she wanted to stay with Auntie but they’d set out just as soon as they received their next water ration. Hot sand crept into Blessed’s tattered shoes as they walked. She and Auntie had each wrapped a length of fabric around their heads and shoulders to protect against the sun, but it still seemed to burn through to her neck and boil her blood. The towers of the Citadel never seemed to get any closer. It was another whole day of walking before they reached it, the sun was low in the sky and the cold was setting in. She and Auntie weaved between the hordes of people gathered around and continued to the very heart of the stronghold. Settling down on the ground, Blessed allowed Auntie to wrap her in a rug from the canvas bag and leaned into her embrace when she felt her arm around her. Tears welled up in her eyes and she gave herself away with a sniffle. 

Auntie began to rock her slowly, “Hush now, Bless. You’re gonna be just fine.” 

Blessed continued to sob quietly. ”I can’t leave you, Auntie. I just can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Auntie said firmly, taking Blessed’s face in her hands, “Your future should be for living, Blessed. Not just surviving.” Neither spoke another word until morning. When the sun was high in the sky and beating down on the crowd, there was an air of anticipation. Blessed’s mousy hair had been deftly untangled and braided by Auntie, she’d also splashed the worst of the dust and dirt from her face with a small handful of water. She felt overwhelming nausea that had nothing to do with the heat and smell of hundreds of unwashed bodies. Clinging to Aunties small wiry frame and feeling weak in the knees, she and the many others watched a platform be lowered towards them on thick chains. 

Standing on the platform were three Imperators, looking fearsome with black grease across their foreheads. It ground to a halt a little way from the ground, so it wouldn’t be overrun by people trying to be lifted up, Blessed supposed. It was dead quiet for several moments before one of the Imperators shouted, “Any full-life females, step forward!”  
There was a surge in the crowd as people rushed toward the platform, Blessed felt Auntie gently push her ahead and panicked as she was swept up in the flow, desperately trying to turn around and find Auntie again. One Imperator was pointing out girls for the other two to lift up, most raised their arms and pushed off from the ground when the men grabbed them, glad to be chosen.

“That one.” The main imperator jabbed a finger at Blessed, and a pair of strong arms reached down to her. Feeling utterly faint, she took a wobbly step forward and lifted her hands to the sky. She was surprised by how swiftly the imperator pulled her up, as if she weighed nothing at all. She huddled in the centre of the platform with about ten other girls, it seemed Blessed was the last to be chosen as the imperators were now pushing other people away with long poles. The platform lurched and began the climb to the top, within seconds they were higher up than Blessed had ever been and she felt dizzy. As they came to a stop, she found herself rushing to the edge to look down, an Imperator flung his arm out to stop her from going over, “Fuku-shima, Girlie!”

Blessed frantically scanned the crowd below and spotted Auntie waving up at her. Her chest felt tight and she couldn’t stop the tears from leaking out. She was ushered into a cavernous room with the other girls. Young boys painted in white were climbing down from what Blessed supposed was the mechanism that lowered and raised the platform. A tall, thin man with a black beard was waiting for them, and he looked down his nose through his glasses at each of the girls’ faces. “Follow me if you please,” he said in an oily voice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a trigger warning for an invasive medical examination in this chapter. In all honesty if you are someone who is easily triggered or is uneasy reading about any kind of violence, you should reconsider reading because I think I'll need to update the tags and warnings. Hope you enjoy though, let me know what you think

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also if anyone was unsure how Blessed's name is pronounced, its said like Bless-id. :)

The man led them down a long corridor into a well lit room, it had a bunch of chairs against one wall and a medical table with a privacy screen nearby. There was a boy with a medical bag waiting for them. The tall man turned to face the girls once they were well inside the room, “If you would all please wait your turn to be examined, my assistant will take some details from you,” he nodded towards the chairs and then spoke to a short girl with curly black hair, “I will see you first.” He guided her towards the medical table and drew the privacy screen as she climbed up. Blessed and the other girls pulled up a chair each and waited as the boy came around with a pad and pencil, writing down their names and ages, tearing off the piece of paper with their information on it and giving it to them to hold.

Blessed was the third girl to be examined. The first girl had been asked to move her chair to the other side of the room and wait, but the second had been asked to sit back down with the others, Blessed wasn’t sure what this meant. When she was beckoned forward by the bearded man, she stumbled a little and flushed red. He took the paper from her and drew the privacy screen around them, then patted the medical table. Blessed pulled herself up and sat with her legs hanging over the edge. 

“Blessed, 17.” He read from the paper and then looked at her for a long while without speaking, seeming to scan her from top to bottom. Blessed shifted on the table uncomfortably. The man picked up some medical tools from a tray, she remembered some from a doctor’s visit she’d had as a child. He looked in her ears, in her mouth, studied her eyes. He did something funny to her arm by wrapping it tight in a black band and squeezing a rubber bulb connected to the band with a tube. The pressure around her arm increased until Blessed thought it would surely drop off, the man read something on a gauge and then turned a dial to release the pressure, much to Blessed’s relief. 

He asked her to lie back on the table and lifted her shirt to feel her tummy. “Do you have monthly bleeding?” he asked her somewhat casually, though Blessed was taken aback. 

“Yes”, she answered, her voice sounding small.

“When was the last time you bled?” he asked, still pressing her tummy in different places.

“Uh, about nine days ago, I think.”  
The man asked her to remove her underwear and prop her legs up on the table. Blessed looked at him a little dumbly and he had to ask her again. Feeling embarrassed, she pulled off her somewhat holey undies and balled them up in her hand. The man pushed her knees further apart and she cringed as he began poking about in her private area.  
“Have you had sexual intercourse?” he asked blandly, not looking at Blessed.

She went red in the face and stuttered, “N-no”.

“Hmm,” said the man, she wasn’t sure if this meant anything in particular. He pulled out a medieval looking tool and now looked Blessed in the eye.  
“I’m going to insert this into your vagina, please keep your muscles relaxed.” Blessed instinctively clenched every muscle in her body as she thought of that cruel looking thing inside her. It was sore and deeply uncomfortable, Blessed desperately tried to think of anything else than what was happening down there. Suddenly it was over and he was asking her to sit up again. He wrote down many things on her slip of paper and put it down on the tray. 

“You can get down now, please take your chair and sit with the girl at the far end of the room.” Blessed fairly jumped from the table, glad to get away. She fetched her chair and sat next to the curly haired girl, shooting her a shy smile, which Blessed was reassured to see the girl return. They waited some time for all the girls to be seen, only one other girl joined them. The bearded man called for an Imperator and indicated to the larger group of girls.

“Come with me” he said gruffly, and the girls all looked at each other, standing unsure. He turned tail and lead them into the hall, the bearded man doing the same with Blessed’s group. Only they went separate ways. The Imperator lead the others back down the way they’d come and one girl exclaimed, “Wait, why aren’t we going with them?” The Imperator did not answer. Down the winding corridor Blessed and the other two followed the bearded man, until they came to a large circular metal door that he opened with a wheel. Through a short tunnel they went until it opened out into a large foyer. 

Blessed was caught by surprise. The air in here was sweet and clean, she saw the other girls sniffing at the air too. In the middle of the foyer was a pool of the clearest water Blessed had seen in a very long time, and she itched to jump into it. But they were ushered over to some chairs to sit down. Descending the curved stone staircase from the room above, came a figure who could only be the Immortan Joe. She’d heard of his legend from others at Gas-Town, they’d said he could scare away demons just by looking at them, that he was tall and thick as a tree from the Before, and just as strong. They weren’t wrong about that, Blessed thought. His gaze passed over each of the girls and Blessed felt herself shiver a little.

“Only three?” he said to the bearded man, gruffly, sounding disappointed even through his mask.

“The others were…Unfit,” he shrugged, unconcerned. 

The Immortan sighed, “Thank you, Grim. I will come and find you later.”  
The man clearly named Grim, was dismissed. He nodded and headed for the door, but then turned to face the Immortan, “That one is ready tonight, if you so desire,” he said, pointing to Blessed, whose heart jumped. She was startled to see him moving towards her when she turned back around to face him. He held out his hand to her, and she slowly placed her own in it.

“And what might your name be?” He asked, not unkindly.

“Blessed,” She answered quietly, her own voice sounding alien in her ears.

“That you are,” he said, looking her up and down, she thought he might be smiling under his mask. He took it off to explain to talk to them further and Blessed learned that the girl with curly black hair was called Tala, and that the other girl, thin and lanky with short blonde hair, was called Serene. He explained to them that this was where they would live from now on. They were allowed to bathe as often as they wanted in the little pool and he promised that there would always be clean water to drink and three meals a day. There were books to read, a piano to play and paper with writing and drawing materials. There were even beds, like the ones from Before with mattresses and frames that held them up off the ground. 

“Such is the privilege of being my wives,” he said a little haughtily, “And there will always be guards posted outside, so you needn’t be afraid at all.” Blessed wondered what there was to be afraid of in this part of the Citadel. Immortan Joe promised to return in the evening to visit them, but for now he had ‘business’ to attend to, and he left them alone, the door clanking behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

It was quiet for a few minutes, nobody seemed to know what to say or do. Blessed felt awkward and avoided looking at the others, instead inspecting their new home. It was so bright and airy in the foyer because the roof and side facing outwards were made of glass, in a sort of dome shape. The ceiling was high, it felt too big of a space above them. The silence was becoming deafening, she heard herself say, “Where have you come from?” just to break it.

“North of the Citadel,” Tala answered shyly, “Was part of a roaming clan up there, no real family. Heard about this wife gig and thought I'd try and find a more secure life.” She smiled and Blessed saw she had lovely straight teeth. Tala was really rather beautiful, her skin was quite dark, like the shells of the walnuts Blessed had enjoyed in her childhood. She looked at her own arms, pasty in comparison and wished her skin was able to tan in the sun. Tala’s black curls bounced when she turned her head and Blessed longed to reach out and stroke them.

“What about you,” Tala asked Serene, who jumped a little at being addressed.

“Well, uh, I came from Barter Town. Mum put me on a trading rig straight here when she heard about the Immortan looking for healthy females, said I had a good chance to move up in the world.” She giggled a little manically, but it was obvious she wanted to cry. Blessed reached out to take her hand, and Serene jumped again.

“My Auntie and I walked from Gas Town, I miss her already too.” Blessed said quietly. Serene nodded, clearly swallowing a lump in her throat. She was clearly a naturally thin girl, made even thinner by probably missing out on too many meals. She definitely wasn’t ugly though, just a different kind of pretty to Tala. She spoke in a jittery kind of way, many freckles covered her body, especially on her face, and she was taller than both Blessed and Tala. Blessed judged Serene to be about the same age as her, and Tala around twenty years old.

“What d’you reckon…should we try the pool?” Tala nudged Serene, trying to cheer everyone up. They all removed their shoes, and Tala completely disrobed, obviously not afraid of nudity. Blessed and Serene balked at first, then completely stripped themselves, figuring they were to live together from now on, it didn’t really matter. They all exclaimed in delight as they slipped into the water, its cool embrace soothing Blessed’s many aches from her long walk to the Citadel. They splashed around for a bit, enjoying a nice soak and helping each other get sand out of their hair. Clean linen was found in a chest in their shared bedroom, they each fashioned a sort of outfit to wear, as their own clothes were rather dirty and threadbare. There was a full length mirror in their bedroom, and Blessed saw the entirety of her reflection for the first time in years. She could see how much she’d grown in that time, now sporting longer legs and some womanly curves. Her teeth were a bit crooked, though they were in good condition. Touching her straight mousy brown hair, she wondered if she ought to try and cut it a bit shorter and neater now she had the means to. Maybe she’d ask the others to help her later.

A bowl of different fruits sat on a table back in the foyer; they shared a piece of each kind, laughing at the faces each other made at the sour one. A large pitcher of cool water was drained completely as they drank in silence, quenching what had been years of constant unsatisfied thirst. Blessed felt a pang of guilt as she thought of Auntie and how she had gone without to make sure Blessed had something to drink each day of the journey here. Thinking of her last view of Auntie far below her on the platform, she hoped that she wasn’t worried about her, that she was proud that Blessed was on her way to a better life. Feeling desperately sad and trying to push those thoughts out of her mind, she inspected the stacks of books that were piled high against the staircase. 

Running her fingers along the spines of some at her eye level, she enjoyed feeling the different textures of the coverings, some leather, some paper, some embossed with patterns or stamped with silver and gold foil lettering. She read aloud some of the titles to Serene and Tala; “Shakespeare’s Complete Works, Treasury of Children’s Classic Fairy Tales, Great Expectations, Best Loved Poems, Moby Dick, The Language of Flowers.” Blessed recognised most of these, she used to enjoy reading, before books became scarce, though ones with old style language she found hard to understand. The Immortan clearly collected these books among other artefacts that had become rare since the Fall. It was a vault of treasures and Blessed felt uneasily that they had just been added to it. She picked out the book of fairy tales and sat down to read, Serene chose a crime novel and Tala quietly tapped out a tune on the piano.

All three girls were startled when the door to the vault clunked open. Immortan Joe had returned just as dusk was setting in, Serene had already lit the oil lamps and bathed the foyer in a golden glow. “Good evening, my girls,” he greeted them after removing his horrid mask. “I see you’ve all washed, you look lovely,” he said plucking one of Tala’s curls to make it bounce. 

“Thank you, Sir” She murmured in reply.   
The Immortan waved a hand to dismiss her comment, “You may call me Joe. We are husband and wives after all”.  
He had Tala show him what she’d been playing on the piano and they discussed music a little, he pulled a book of sheet music from one of the stacks and told her to choose a song to learn and play for him next time. He asked Serene and Blessed what they’d been reading, and chuckled a little when Blessed held up the book of fairy tales. 

“I came to see how you are settling in, but I must let you retire for the night as I’m sure it’s been an overwhelming day of changes”, he stood and kissed Serene and Tala on their cheek. But when he turned to Blessed, he said to her surprise, “Let's go upstairs and talk.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating has been updated to explicit for this chapter, major trigger warning for sexual violence.

Blessed was confused but nodded her head, and followed him up to the second floor room, shrugging at the others as they looked over their shoulders at her on the way to their bedroom. Joe lit the oil lamp and Blessed saw a larger bed than the ones downstairs, there was also a small side table with little pots of white powder and some green paste that smelled vaguely swampy. Joe sat down on the bed and motioned for Blessed to do the same. Perching on the mattress next to him, she waited for Joe to speak. But he just looked at her, searching her face with his piercing eyes, then he reached out and stroked her face. 

Finally he spoke, “Are you happy, Blessed?”   
She didn’t know what he would have said if she’d answered that she’d much rather be with her Auntie and that she could see herself going stir-crazy here. But instead she answered,“Yes, very.” That seemed to please him, and he hummed, still looking her over.  
His fingers traced her chin, then her collar-bone, trailing down to her breast. Blessed was very uncomfortable. She knew what being Joe’s wife would mean, since her unpleasant appointment with the Grim. The ins and outs of human reproduction were taught in the last year that she had been able to attend school. It was the bare minimum of facts and diagrams of what lay inside her, but Blessed felt she understood her body. Males seemed a different species entirely. Many a man had made a grab at her back at the settlement with the same look in their eye that Joe had now. She’d heard what went on in the shared tents but could not visualize the act. 

A knot of apprehension and nerves churned in her stomach as Joe placed a hand in the middle of her chest and gave a small push, meaning for Blessed to lie down. She scooted further back onto the bed and lay with her head on a pillow. Joe began to undo the knots of her improvised outfit, stopping to caress the skin of different body parts while Blessed squirmed internally. Once Blessed was completely naked and feeling more vulnerable than she’d ever been, Joe removed his own shirt, boots and trousers. She got her first glimpse of a penis, it was a bit uglier and shorter than she’d thought it would look, she thought it was curious how it stood out from his body stiffly. Joe hovered over Blessed, grazing her forehead with his lips and touching her breasts, she felt his penis against her thigh, warm and hard, and bile rose in her throat. 

Joe’s body odour was quite overpowering, and his breath was even more horrendous, she tried to breathe as shallowly as possible. He parted her legs and probed the opening of her privates with one finger, touching on some part of her that sent an unpleasant jolt through her body. He chuckled at her reaction and with a sudden jabbing movement, inserted two fingers inside her. Blessed couldn’t stifle the shriek of pain that forced its way out of her. She was still reeling after Joe had removed his fingers, glistening with the clear substance that Blessed always found in her underwear about a week after she bled. He showed it to her and said “Ripe and ready” as if she would know what this meant. He positioned himself so their pelvises were inline, holding his penis just at the entrance to her vagina, and looked her in the eyes as he made the first thrust. 

No sound escaped Blessed’s mouth, though she tried to howl in shock and pain. Joe began to slowly move his hips in a rhythm, and kissed Blessed on the lips as she was still processing. She felt an unbearable pressure and tearing pain as she was stretched on the inside. Focusing on the ceiling and biting down hard on her bottom lip, Blessed waited what felt like an eternity until the speed of Joe’s thrusts increased and his breathing was heavy, one last agonising jab and his body shuddered. He groaned and collapsed on top of her, crushing her with his weight. Just as she thought she might suffocate he pushed off her, withdrawing himself from her body, she whimpered with the pain of it. His penis was wet with blood and some whitish fluid, he wiped it off with some of Blessed’s clean linen and then patted her shoulder, “Good girl,” he smiled, still puffing and his voice sounding wheezy. 

Standing up to pull on his trousers and boots, he ignored Blessed who covered her eyes with her hands and shook silently, in shock. She only got off the bed, legs wobbling and weak, when Joe made for the door and then looked back at her expectantly. She dressed clumsily in the linen, leaving the soiled piece on the floor and nearly tripped down the stairs following him. At the bottom step he kissed her again on the forehead, “I’ll leave you to sleep now,” he patted her tummy gently, “If you are indeed blessed, then we’ll soon have a son.” He smiled and pulled on his mask before leaving the vault, and Blessed, dumbfounded and quivering in the dark. Stumbling over to the bathing pool, she knelt down to scoop up some water and splash her face. No one had ever mentioned pain when sex was alluded to. The sounds Blessed overheard back home had only ever been ones of obvious pleasure. What had just happened to her? Was that really it? 

She dried her face on the hem of her wrap and took a long drink of water before going to the bedroom, quietly as she could. It was too dark to see their faces, but their breathing told her that Serene and Tala were awake. She said nothing, but climbed into the empty bed next to Tala and gathered the quilt around her. It started out as silent tears leaking out, then she felt the sobs racking her body, small pathetic sounds escaping into the dark.   
“Blessed?” Tala called out gently, sounding apprehensive.  
Blessed rolled over and pulled her head into the sweet musty-smelling embrace of the quilt, stifling some of the noise. She lay awake for some time after the others drifted off, wishing for her Auntie and feeling utterly wretched.


	6. Chapter 6

Blessed woke with dull throbbing pain radiating her lower half. Easing herself off the bed, she winced and hobbled out to the foyer, her two companions still sleeping, Serene somewhat fitfully. Through the glass of the dome she saw it was barely dawn, the sky a pale orange canvas dusted with purple, a handful of stars still lingered. Blessed took a long drink to rid her mouth of the foul taste sleep had somehow conjured up. She waited as long as possible to use the lavatory, putting off the inevitable discomfort until she couldn’t hold it anymore. Gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut against the tears, she felt stinging as she urinated and gingerly dabbed herself dry when she was done.

The cool water of the bathing pool provided some relief as she slowly and carefully washed her body clean. She did not attempt to sit, but sank down a little and allowing the water to take some of her weight. Blessed tried to remember how old she had been when she last went swimming. She must have been very small because her memories of the indoor public pool filled with children she knew and grew up with in her hometown also contained her mother, smiling and twirling little Blessed around. It was a comforting thought and she slowly rotated in place, eyes closed as the water trailed through her fingers and allowed herself to miss her mum, who had died along with countless others in the struggle to survive the new world.

“Good morning,” Tala spoke quietly as she pattered into the foyer, startling Blessed out of her brief reprieve. “How are you?” The way she looked searchingly at her face, Blessed knew she meant more than just a polite greeting.

“Fine…Thank you.” Blessed replied, ducking her head away from Tala’s gaze.

Tala came to sit on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water. “Last night I thought maybe I heard… Are you hurt?”

Blessed chanced a look at Tala’s face and the instant their eyes locked, she began to weep softly. Tala held out her arms and gathered Blessed up, gently holding her against her warm body. Blessed let herself relax into the embrace and simply sobbed as Tala patted her back. After a few minutes of sniffling and hiccupping she pulled away and rubbed at her face, sighing.

“Is this going to be our life?” she asked Tala, unsure if she really wanted to hear the answer.

Tala paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “It will get better. The first time is often uncomfortable but it isn’t always like that.”

Blessed mulled over these words before speaking again, “Maybe he’ll leave us all alone if one of us is pregnant soon.” She lightly touched her own belly, hardly believing such a thing could grow inside her.

Tala didn’t indulge Blessed’s weak hope, “We’ll look after each other either way.”

“Have you done it before, then?” Blessed asked, unable to help her curiosity.

Tala nodded, “There were boys in our clan about my age, it was somewhat expected of us. The first time was unpleasant but after a while it wasn’t bad at all, it could even be nice sometimes,” she blushed, smiling a little.

Blessed simply couldn’t imagine the carnal violence of the previous night transforming spontaneously into pleasure, and she did not dare to hope.

She wondered about Serene, and felt a rush of protective instinct for her. She was just seemed so delicate, like even a harsh word might snap her in two. Tala seemed to read Blessed’s troubled expression, and they both glanced back toward the sleeping quarters where Serene was still in bed.

“She’ll be alright, we’ll help her.” Tala tried to say reassuringly, though she sounded unsure.

The Immortan visited Blessed the next three consecutive nights, she could not stop the tears and pitiful noises from forcing their way out, as Joe forced his way in. She took to bathing herself the very minute he would leave the vault, trying to rinse the foulness from her before much more could sink into her skin. Though by morning she gladly accepted their comforting words and gestures, Tala and Serene knew not to speak to Blessed when she finally came to bed after these encounters, she needed to be as alone as one can possibly be when you share quarters with two others. She prayed she would soon be pregnant and that this would make Joe leave her be.

The fourth night that Joe arrived to the vault, Blessed but down her book and rose mechanically from her chair, resigned to what was coming and determined to get it over with as quickly as possible. But he waved her away.

“Not tonight, Blessed. Continue your reading,” he said not unkindly. He held his hand out to Serene, who shot darting glances and both Blessed and Tala before standing shakily.

“Come,” Joe took Serene’s arm and led her upstairs, calling back to his remaining wives, ”Goodnight my Treasures”.

Blessed’s heart fluttered uneasily in her chest, she chanced look at Tala whose face was pinched with worry. They did not reply to Joe, but retreated to their quarters. As they readied themselves for bed in silence they avoided each other’s gazes, immediately extinguishing the lamp when they were both settled. The muffled sounds of Serene’s pain penetrated the pillow Blessed had clamped firmly over her head, needling their way through her ears and burrowing into her heart. She felt Tala climb into bed next to her and they clung to each other, hating their helplessness.

After waiting what felt like days for the sounds of Joe leaving the vault, Blessed huffed out a breath of relief, keeping her ears strained against the empty silence for clues of Serene’s movements. But she didn’t come down until morning, and only then to bathe. She wouldn’t eat or drink, shying away from Blessed and Tala’s gentle attempts to help, not speaking at word. Watching her retreat to a corner to sit with a book open in her lap, staring through it and never turning a page, Blessed whispered to Tala, “What can we do?”

“I’ve seen this before, in people who have been shocked or hurt,” Tala murmured. “We must give her time. She’s in a place in her head where she has to be still and quiet to recover.”

Indeed the next day Serene gradually began to talk again, though she had become restless, never still for more than a moment, pacing the foyer and twitching away from sudden sounds. Blessed was reminded of a cat she had once seen with a wounded leg, its tail flicking and ears back, limping away from Blessed when she tried to assist. The days passed monotonously, blurring together. It became weeks of endless book reading, mindless tapping on the keys of the piano, pointless scribbles on scraps of paper. Joe visited each girl four nights in a row in turn, except for when they bled, though Blessed did not. She had begun to feel strange. Off her food and unreasonably tired, she napped during the day and gingerly laid cloth soaked in cool water on her tender breasts.

The Immortan arrived unexpectedly at noon one day, accompanied by the Grim and his young assistant. The Grim, pushing the medical table from the wives’ first uncomfortable appointment with him, did not greet or even really acknowledge the girls, busying himself with his medical bag.

“You are each being examined today, for your health,” Joe announced.

“Blessed, you first,” he said, patting the gurney. “Serene and Tala, please wait in your bedroom.”

Blessed obligingly climbed up and allowed herself to be prodded in much the same manner as her first encounter with the Grim, grimacing at times but otherwise silent and still. Joe stood by patiently, obviously confident that he would be told if anything was amiss. Feeling her slightly bloated belly, Grim’s demeanor shifted from casual indifference to mild curiosity.

“You’ve been ill in the mornings haven’t you…Off your food? How are your breasts feeling?”

He took Blessed’s bemused expression as confirmation of his theory, removing his glasses before turning to Joe and mirroring his smug grin.

“Success”.


	7. Chapter 7

There had been much fanfare from Joe in the wake of Grim’s announcement that Blessed was expecting. Singing her praises and kissing her forehead while boasting that their son would be this, their son would be that. She felt slightly sickened by her own elation, confused to be celebrating a pregnancy with Joe. But what else was her life to consist of in the vault, if not to bear sons? Would she not be denying herself peace by refusing to embrace her situation?

All three wives sat around the edge of the pool in bemused silence, legs dangling in the kind coolness of the water. Tala and Serene were gazing at Blessed’s barely bloated belly, as though it may suddenly swell and burst. Blessed herself felt giddy, there was a real live child growing inside her, and she hadn’t even known it.

“How long does it take?” Serene asked, breaking the silence and startling the others. “How long does it take for a baby to grow and be born?” She elaborated when Tala and Blessed only looked at her, dumbly.

“Most babies take 280 days to arrive”, Tala answered, surprising Blessed with her knowledge, “But some are born a little earlier or later. I saw one born in my old clan, there was a lot of mess. It was very small and the poor thing was born sleeping..”

A sombre atmosphere suddenly clouded the room, and Tala hastily tried to remedy it. “In about 250 days Blessed’s little one will be here, and we can help look after them”, she smiled. 250 days. In that frighteningly small amount of time Blessed would hold her own child in her arms. She gingerly pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to imagine that one day soon she would feel her baby moving about. She felt warmth in her chest and her eyes prickled as they filled with tears.

“Do you suppose Joe will want to take it away, when it comes?” Blessed worried, already feeling protective.

Tala shook her head, “I shouldn’t think so, babies need mother’s milk to survive and he’ll want it to be healthy, surely.”

“Don’t worry, Bless”, Serene tried to reassure her, “We’ll make sure everything is ok.”

Blessed wept lightly, confused with her mixed emotions as Tala and Serene scooted around the edge of the pool, to embrace her from either side.

The days seemed endless when Blessed felt ill. For 30 more days she lay motionless on her bed and allowed herself to fed minuscule spoonfuls of water or gentle foods, boneless with exhaustion in between bouts of retching while one of the others held her hair. Just when she thought she would perish, and would have been almost glad to if it meant escaping this horrid existence, she awoke feeling not nearly as sick as usual. She wobbled her way to the water jug on weak legs and gulped as much as her stomach would hold.

“Good morning” Tala beamed at her, reading from a chair across the room. “You’ve slept for a long while, so we let you be.”

“Feeling any better?” Serene asked tentatively.

“Yes, finally”, Blessed croaked in reply. She managed a meagre meal and returned to bed for another lengthy rest.

* * *

 

Blessed’s energy returned and her skin took on a healthy glow, as her belly bloomed she felt strangely radiant. Joe visited often to check on her and to take either Serene or Tala to bed. He did not attempt to bring her upstairs at all now that she was with child, leaving her with a toxic concoction of relief and guilt bubbling in her gut. Joe visited early one afternoon, accompanied by the Grim who was to examine them all and check the baby’s progress. He listened for the heartbeat and measured Blessed’s waist, finally declaring all to be well after using a handful of different tools and contraptions that Blessed didn’t quite understand the uses of. Joe was fairly manic with delight when Tala was found to be in the early stages of pregnancy, patting her still flat belly and palming Blessed’s round one. He took Serene that night and the two nights after, determined to have his three sons one after the other.

Life in the vault became steadily more tedious as Blessed grew heavier. Her back ached and her feet swelled, and she frequently took to the pool for relief. Tala’s delicate bump made her look sweet, she was glowing with that same magic Blessed had felt after the sickness. Now Blessed only felt huge and lumpy, the baby always jostling her with elbows and knees , and she still had 40 days to go. Serene had been a rock for Tala and Blessed both, rubbing their backs and hauling them to their feet, still not pregnant herself and glad to be of help.

Nightmares plagued Blessed in her sleep. Auntie begged her for water with dead eyes, weeping as Blessed realised she had no hands to pour the jug. Her son tore open her belly with a jagged knife, his twisted little body writhing its way out, wearing Joe’s mask and a sickening grin. She awoke gasping, feeling parched and unsettled. It was still night, and she rolled herself out of bed in the dark. Trying to shake the images from her mind, she edged past Serene’s bed and felt her way through to the foyer. It was bitch black save for a dim glow from a single oil lamp. Blessed drained the entire jug in several hearty gulps, choking on the last one when she heard a whimper. Coughing and spluttering, Blessed squinted in the blackness and saw Tala crouching by the pool. Heart in her throat, Blessed hurried over to her sister.

“Tala, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?” Blessed urged as she struggled to kneel down in front of her. Tears dripped from Tala’s cheeks but Blessed knew that wasn’t why her legs felt wet. Frantically fetching the lamp, she illuminated the horror of the situation. Tala sat in a small puddle of birth fluid and blood. Cradled in her hands, was a tiny grey thing that looked vaguely like a baby.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glory me, blood-bags! Its been ages but I have had the shittiest year of my life so far with illness and had to leave my studies and move back home, which is why I haven't updated in ages. But I am back, and I have been working on this story constantly in my head, so I haven't lost the thread of it and I'll be updating really regularly now.

Joe was unreadable. Blessed searched his face for any hint of emotion, sadness, anger, pity. But he did not betray himself as he listened to Grim explain Tala’s condition. Tala herself lay immobile on the examination table, staring blankly at the ceiling, hearing nothing as her tears flowed. Blessed had held her hand while Grim inspected the remains of her baby, she was frightened of how the little thing had looked, but she could not tear her gaze away, right up until Grim had wrapped it in a cloth and placed it in the same basket that contained the linen soiled by Tala’s blood and anguish.

“This does not mean she may not produce a healthy heir. You may try again, when she is fit.” the Grim drawled monotonously. 

Joe nodded and was silent for several moments before turning to Blessed and Serene, “Please leave us in privacy.”

The two girls reluctantly left their sister’s side and made their way to the bed chamber, both straining to hear the low conversation. 

“Will she be alright?” Serene asked Blessed in a whisper, her eyes glistening in fear and worry.

Blessed had to swallow the lump in her throat before answering, “Grim says so, and he knows about these things. We’ll look after her.”

“Yes. But… I mean, even after her body is healed.” Serene met Blessed’s gaze, and they shared the unspoken concern that Tala’s despair may consume her entirely. 

Blessed could only repeat, though somewhat more firmly, “We’ll look after her”.

It was a long and restless wait for Joe and Grim to finishing talking, Blessed and Serene hurried anxiously back to the main chamber as they heard the vault door open just in time to see Joe leaving, he did not look back. Serene took the seat next to Tala and grasped her hand, which Blessed was heartened to see she squeezed in response. Turning to Grim, Blessed straightened up and looked him right in the face.

“So what can we do for her?” Grim raised an eyebrow, he had never been directly addressed by one of the wives before now as they spoke only when they were spoken to and even then in a gentle, timid tone. He studied her half a second more before answering.

“The worst is over, though she will continue to bleed for a short time. When it stops, then you may bathe her.” 

He shut up his medical bag and pushed his broken eyeglasses further up the bridge of his nose. He looked at Blessed again, searchingly, and she thought maybe he had just a glimmer of respect for her.  
Indicating to Tala with a nod of his head, he addressed Blessed and Serene both, “Make sure she drinks water”, before leaving them in silence.  
The days that followed were consumed by caring for their sister, afraid to leave her, even in sleep. Serene and Blessed took it in turns to mind her, while the other rested in the bed chamber. Serene sang softly to her as she cried, surprising Blessed with how beautifully she could carry a tune, rubbing small circles in her lower back. Blessed regularly wrung out a cool cloth for Tala’s forehead, as she slowly stained the linen beneath her red. Coaxing her into taking small sips of water every so often was the biggest worry, as it had been per Grim’s instructions and seemed to be the one thing about her reality that she could control.  
Refusing to take any food at all, she was weak and needed both girls’ assistance to walk to the commode, though she couldn’t pass very much and the colour worried Blessed and Serene both. The bleeding began to slow but Tala was deteriorating from dehydration and grief. At a loss for what else there was to do, Serene was the one to break the silent bubble of uncertainty and fear.

“You may not” she said aloud suddenly, startling Blessed as they sat on either side of Tala’s bed. Tala’s glassy eyes met Serene’s tear filled ones.

“You may not die, I forbid it” The tears now flowed freely and Serene’s expression was one of fierce love and desperation.  
Tala tried to swallow and lick her cracked lips, doing nothing to moisten them. 

“What if I can’t help it?” She replied in a small voice, not defiantly but with an air of defeat.

“You can help it!” Serene wept, “Eat! Drink! Let us help you, please, we need you here with us!”. Tala reached for her distraught sister’s hand and ran her thumb back and forth over her skin, instinctively wanting to sooth her, though she did not reply.

Blessed then spoke, “I’m sorry you lost your baby”, being the first time for any of them to mention the tragedy out loud. “You’ll always be their mother, no child could replace them, but you must stay with us-“, her words suddenly choked off by tears of her own. Tala looked between the two, her eyes also wet and bottom lip trembling.

“What can I do, Joe hates me now, I may not ever have a living child” and suddenly her body contracted with guttural sobs, she clung to her sisters as they leaned in to embrace her.

“He does not hate you” Blessed implored her, “No one could. You’re kind and beautiful, and caring. He’s just sad too. And you will have more children.” She had no idea whether what she was saying was true, but it seemed to breathe life into Tala.

“Blessed’s baby will need us to help her, you’ll be a lovely auntie and then you’ll be a lovely mother” Serene insisted, while Blessed herself nodded, though she felt a pang of sadness and longing when she then thought of her own auntie and wished she was here to help her too.  
Tala improved in leaps and bounds, gaining her strength back the more water and food she accepted. Her bleeding stopped and she bathed for a long while, cleansing her body and her spirit.


	9. Chapter 9

Blessed was old enough to remember what life had been like before The Fall. She had gone to school learn reading and writing, and played with other children, until their town had run out of water. Her father had pulled her out of bed one night and thrown her in a car, speeding away amid a storm of gunfire and smoke, the life she’d known ablaze behind them. They’d driven halfway across the country to Auntie’s house and for a short time they’d been safe. The seemingly endless days that followed were a constant fight to survive, to hide from pillagers, find water to drink, scavenge for food and avoid sickness. There was no time to be idle, therefore no time to feel restless. All Blessed seemed to feel in these new days in the vault was restless. Her belly was swollen beyond belief and her back ached from bearing the weight of it. Pacing round and round the foyer was the only thing that somewhat quelled the tension in her body and the unease in her mind. 

She could not settle to anything like reading and often just half floated in the water of the pool while pretending to listen to Tala practicing a piece on the piano. Grim visited daily to check for signs of labour, along with Joe who glowed with some kind of impatient hunger to lay eyes on his future war-lord son. Blessed was irritated by everyone and everything, chafing under the realisation that all could still go horribly wrong. Awake at all hours, lying still and desperately thinking her way through all possible scenarios.  


Obviously, the worst to happen would be that she, or the child, or both, might die. Childbirth was a messy and dangerous affair, she still had nightmares about the tiny half-formed thing that Tala had held in her hand. If she survived and the child did not, would Joe forgive her? For getting him so close, only to snatch away the promise? If she died, and the baby was well, she hoped Tala and Serene would be allowed to raise it, then it might be kind and compassionate and end up a benevolent ruler. What would happen if the child was a girl? It made no difference to her but would Joe take heart in the hope that Blessed would be able to bear a son with a healthy daughter as proof? Or maybe the worst thing to happen, above even the child coming out malformed, would be that this baby, the one she already loved with her whole heart, might come out with Joe’s face and she would be repulsed by it, unable to feel that same swell of affection. 

She lay on a low sofa to be assessed as it was much too difficult to get on the examination table in her condition. Picking at the skin around her nails while Joe hovered behind Grim, her sisters had been sent to the bedchamber to wait. The baby writhed under Grim’s hands, seeming to Blessed like it was desperate to escape its cell with shrinking walls. She sympathized. Her least favourite part of the examination was when Grim peered inside her, to see if the baby was making any headway that Blessed hadn’t felt, though this did not seem remotely possible in her opinion. 

“She must not go very much longer if it can be avoided.” Grim advised Joe, “I am going to sweep the membranes”. 

A hot ball of anger, fear and confusion burned in Blessed’s chest. She was always being talked about but never to. This was happening to her, this child was inside of her and no one bothered to tell her directly about her own body. What did he mean ‘sweep’? She had a sudden terrible vision of a nasty device being driven into her and silently trembled. Miraculously, Joe was receptive to her tension and came to her side.

“Not long. Not long now and our son will be here”. He stroked her hair and she felt sickened by her own enjoyment of his reassurance and affection.  
Grim did not produce any such contraption, but only used his own index finger; she supposed he was poking at the baby to trigger labour. Joe helped her sit up and they had the usual low muttering conversation about Blessed like she wasn’t right there with them. Serene and Tala were permitted back in the room and immediately flocked to her side, ignoring Grim as he said for what must have been the tenth time in as many days to call him immediately if there were signs of change. Feeling utterly fed up, silent tears of frustration leaked freely as she left her sisters on the sofa and sank into the pool for comfort. 

Eyes closed, she heard someone slip into the water with her and did not react until they wrapped their arms around her and pulled her close, she half wanted to pull away in protest but the arms drew her in so tenderly and guided her head to their shoulder. She knew now it was Tala, feeling the soft curls of her hair against her cheek. It was so much like that first hug in the pool, the morning after Joe first took her. The emotion of the memory on top of the utter helplessness she felt drew her tears out in full force, while Tala gently bobbed with her in the water and made soothing sounds. Serene joined in the intervention wordlessly, patting her back in a pacifying rhythm. Blessed cried herself to exhaustion and fell asleep right there in the pool, supported by them both. She half awoke after an undetermined amount of time, being lead out of the pool and wrapped in linen, then tucked into her bed, a cushion between her knees. 

The jolt of pain awoke her properly when it was dark in the bed chamber, a single lamp at the far end of the room. She must have gasped because both Tala and Serene were sitting bolt upright in their beds only half a second later. 

“Bless? Are you alright?” Serene whispered urgently  
“Is it the baby?” Tala cried, leaping up and dashing over to Blessed as she had another breath-stealing cramp.

Huffing, Blessed swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, feeling wetness on her legs and seeing it where she had lain. Serene tore from the room, and Tala put her arm around her shoulders, leading her away to the main chamber. In the time it took for them to shuffle the short distance, painstakingly slowly and with several pauses, Serene had clearly sent word for Grim and was lighting all the lamps she could reach.  
It was only minutes before the cavalry arrived, Grim fully dressed and not looking even slightly flustered, Joe with only trousers and a robe on, mask-less and huffing, red in the face with anticipation though with sleep still clouding his seedy eyes.  
Blessed could hardly bear to lie down to be examined, she howled when Grim inspected her and tested with his fingers. “5 centimetres, mostly effaced, this should be swift”.  
Nobody else in the room spoke medical but it was clear that things were well in motion. Serene and Tala walked her around the room, stopping only for more pains, to be checked again or to have a brief respite in the pool. 

“You mustn’t hold your breath during these contractions, take deep breaths to ensure the child gets enough oxygen”, Grim scolded, and Blessed so wanted to hit him.  
Out of everything this felt the most violating, that this cold, clinical man could watch her having such a primal and in her opinion, private experience. She wanted no one else in the room but her sisters, it felt like being a tortured animal observed by an experimenting human. 

On her last check, he informed her that she was ‘fully dilated’ and could now begin pushing with the pains. He instructed her on how to do it most effectively and she was past hating him, nothing else could exist between the pain and her resolve to get this child out of her body. Many screaming, hollering and begging pushes later, the baby’s head began to emerge and she cried for the burning sensation while Joe urged her on, from behind Grim. Demanding she reduce her breathing to quick panting, Grim eased the child into the world slowly and carefully. Tala supported her from behind so she could lean in and see it, almost out, up to the shoulders. Then suddenly, it was free from her, tethered only by a pulsating cord which was swiftly clamped and cut. 

The tiny thing was rubbed down with a cloth, it was limp and blue, lifeless. Blessed fought to get up but was held back by Tala and Joe, Serene watched helplessly from the sidelines. Many tense and agonising moments later, the child spluttered and let out a mewling cry, Blessed burst out weeping herself. Grim extracted fluid from its mouth and continued to rub its back encouraging the breathing and blood flow. Wrapping the baby snugly in a blanket, he finally held it up in triumph. 

“A son”. The room fairly exploded, Serene and Tala kissed her, and Joe snatched the baby from Grim, ignoring Blessed and her outstretched arms. 

“My son, Scabrous Scrotus” he crowed. Blessed was taken aback, they had never discussed what they might call the child, and frankly she found the name horrendously ugly. Why had nobody yet handed her the baby she had grown and laboured with? Indignant, she looked Joe right in the eye.

“Give him to me”, and again held out her hands. Joe stared back, relenting only when Grim confirmed it necessary, “He needs her body warmth”. Holding him finally, emotions crashed like waves around her as she drank in the image of his face. He was perfect, tiny and pink. She wept and held him against her chest, his whimpering settled as he heard the familiar beating of her heart. Joe resigned to merely stroking the downy hair on the back of their son’s head, still beaming in a way that Blessed found deeply unnerving. 

“Smaller than I had predicted, though seeming to be in good health. He will gain weight once your milk comes in”, Grim informed her.

“Why wait for that, he will be taken to the milkers right away, my son needs to be fed” said Joe with an air of finality.  
Blessed could not contain herself any longer.

“You will not take my baby away from me, he needs me and I will feed him myself, no one else.” She said with a level voice but the gaze of a woman feeling murderous.  
Joe had only just opened his mouth to reprimand her when Grim cut him off at the pass, 

“He will not eat very much right away, and only she has the liquid gold he needs. I would consider it a risk to pass off your heir to a milker who may introduce an illness. The best place for him is with the mother.” Joe closed his mouth but was still glowering.

Blessed knew Grim was not taking her side and was viewing it all from a medical standpoint, but the fact that she had been right and he had supported her demand made her despise him just a little less. Scabrous latched on the breast with little to no difficulty and quietly sucked, using his instinct to feed but really just being comforted by the whole affair. She barely noticed the delivery of the afterbirth, or the pain of the slight tearing she had endured, only sparing thought and emotion to study every detail of her baby’s face. Delightedly, she thought he looked a bit like her father, with his well defined cupids bow and slightly turned up nose. She did not hear, or rather ignored Grim packing up his equipment and announcing he would return often to check everything was as it should be, but to send for him immediately if there were concerns.  
Looking up only when he was gone, she inadvertently caught Joe’s eye.

“Leave us for a moment”, he instructed Serene and Tala softly.  
He sat himself down next to her as her sisters left the room, and she felt weary for the first time since laying eyes on her son. Joe said nothing for a while, only stroked the baby’s cheek while he suckled, and Blessed hated his dirty, battle worn hand touching that perfect pure skin. 

“You’ve done well”, he admitted somewhat proudly, and looked up to meet Blessed’s gaze. She did not smile, and she did not know what to say, she just nodded slightly.

“I knew that you were Blessed, I knew that you would be the one to do this. He’s full-life and healthy, and Fuku-shima he’ll be one Valhalla of an Immortan."  
He waited for Blessed’s acknowledgement, presumably expecting her to praise him for his part in what she, and she alone had done. Seeing her opportunity, she quietly pounced.  
In a silky voice she replied, 

“How could he be anything less, with you as his father? He’ll make us both proud.” She smiled at him, purposefully shy and meek.  
Joe beamed wider, his ego sufficiently bolstered.

“But now he’s still small, he’s vulnerable and we can’t risk having anyone hurting our Scabrous or making him ill”, she grudgingly used the name he chose and creased her brow with real worry but more comically for dramatic effect. 

“That means he doesn’t leave my side and the only ones outside of this vault to touch him will be you and Grim, no milkers, no nurse maids.” She quietly stared him down and hoped she looked equally determined and harmless.  
For several moments he was silent but Blessed ultimately triumphed when Joe nodded in agreement, 

“He stays here, you grew and birthed him, and you know what he needs.”  
Revelling in her success, she was caught off guard by him leaning in to kiss her. At the last moment she turned her head so his lips brushed her cheek, but he took her chin with his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face up.

“You’re a wonderful mother, the perfect wife” he breathed, and he kissed her wetly on her lips. Forcing herself not to gag, she readjusted the baby in her arms as he stood to leave, promising to come back tomorrow to see them.


End file.
